


Out of Syllabus

by crumbler



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, M/M, Non Consensual, Teacher-Student Relationship, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-03
Updated: 2013-02-03
Packaged: 2017-11-28 01:36:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/668777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crumbler/pseuds/crumbler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on a kink meme prompt: <i>Jensen is a young teacher at a high school (please don't make him a coach...). Jared is a junior/senior football star/golden boy/ruler of the school. Jared keeps on molesting Jensen publicly and eventually rapes him. But Jared isn't afraid; he's the minor, no one will believe Jensen, and he's too important for the school. Jared regulars asks for sex from Jensen and threatens to share him with the football team.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Out of Syllabus

**Author's Note:**

> So, when I was working on this almost two years back I had tons of dubious plans (mostly involving the incorrect use of lab apparatus hee), then life got in the way, and plans got derailed. Now this is currently incomplete, and, frankly, it feels like it'll stay that way for a while OTL But one day...

All it really is is a case of being at the wrong place at the wrong time.

It's not like Jared makes it a habit to go around dicking his teachers, but then again, it's not right he gets slapped over the head with a warning to pull his Biology grade up or get suspended for the season - he's Jared fucking Padalecki, he might as well have built the team with his own two hands: he's faster than everyone, taller by at least two inches, could probably crack watermelons open with his biceps, grate cheese casual as fuck on his stomach, and he has much, much better hair than anyone else.

And it's definitely not usually the case that ancient Mr Beaver with his bristly beard and his obsession with feeling up the glow-in-the-dark science lab skeleton gets replaced by what pretty much has to be a porn star masquerading as teacher.

Mr Jensen Ackles is younger than the rest of the teachers in school - and so much prettier, the kind of pretty that makes your balls hurt, makes your dick raise its head to pay attention in class while your brain gibbers what the fuck, how does that mouth exist, how is there not already a cock sitting fat and happy, well-suckled, on that bottom lip, which really, _seriously_ , has to be built exclusively to cradle a cock in, the bow of it so ripe and red and pefectly curved.

On Mr Ackles' first day, the entire female population pretty much blow their ovaries up into tiny little smithereens and the guys sort of fidget around on their chairs, eyes darting everywhere each time Mr Ackles turns around and reaches up to annotate the plant cell on the board, like if they let their gazes flit about the room and occasionally, only occasionally, let their eyes rest on that ass - that fucking gorgeous ass which fills Mr Ackles' pants out ridiculously, so tight and high, rising up and away from the muscles of his thigh in a curve so luscious it's just begging to be cupped, to be pried open and tasted, licked from the inside out - they'll walk out of the lab with their heterosexuality intact.

It's not like Jared is actually gay or anything. He has a girlfriend who has okay boobs and a pretty good cunt - hot, wet but kinda frail, can't take his dick as much as he'd like it to because she'll start whining, twisting on it, and crying, it hurts, I'm so sore, Jared, give me a break, for god's sake stop it, get out, get _out_ , you're such an animal sometimes, really, Jared, no I did _not_ ask you to get out of there so you could fuck me in the ass instead, god.

It's just, teachers don't look like that - shouldn't look like that, because, dude, how does the blood get anywhere near the brain when all of it is being pumped on its merry way to your dick when your teacher so much as talks, so much as lets those lips part, lets them slide open to reveal the hot inside of his mouth which just begs for cock and come.

Plus Mr Ackles has those strong, broad shoulders, that deep, soft voice that could drown you like an ocean, that glorious ass - so supple, so fucking ridiculously perfect it must have been made for sex, made exclusively to take some good, hard dicking, to suck the come right out of a cock and hold it deep inside him, greedy, possessive.

Ask any of his teachers, any of his friends, ask his parents, and they'd tell you, _Jared? He's a sweetheart!_. They'd talk about his dimples and his boyish grin, open, unabashed, maybe they'd say, _You'll never find a lovelier boy, there's nobody gentler or kinder, he's just a big friendly giant, that's Jared_.

And Jared's behaved in Mr Ackles' classes so far, only raped him with his eyes even when his fingers and cock have twitched and begged for a taste, answered his questions with an earnest, industrious air about him, like he's hungry for knowledge and not for that voluptuous mouth, those thick lashes he just wants to butt the tip of his cock against, wants to see clump up with tears and come.

So when Jared knocks on the door of the teacher's room the day he gets his warning letter from the coach, when he dimples at Mrs Ferris who's seated near the door, and asks politely, please, could I see Mr Ackles, Mrs Ferris offers him a toffee and a smile and waves him over to Mr Ackles' desk. The man has apparently built a fort of textbooks around himself, like if he pretends hard enough, if he dresses up primly enough and arms himself with books and post-it notes, dresses his fingers up with streaks of ink and iodine stains instead of lube, he can convince himself he's a nerdy little schoolteacher and not fucking sex on legs.

Mr Ackles actually beams at him - takes off those fuck-me-like-a-librarian glasses he sometimes wears and rubs them clean with his tie and beams up at Jared, this fuck-me-fuck-me-now-fuck-a-space-for-yourself-inside-me-park-that-cock-right-here smile uncurling on his lips - and agrees to tutor him after school on Wednesdays and Fridays.

It's laughable that Mr Ackles expects their first session to start off with anything but him on his knees, boxed in by Jared's strong thighs, his face wrapped in Jared's huge hands, locked in the lab with the the keys in Jared's pocket.

"I said, lick me, Mr Ackles, is that really so hard to understand? You teach Biology and you don't even know your way around a man's body?" Jared asks, disdainfully, a little pissed off with how coy Mr Ackles has been the past few minutes, how he's been affecting confusion and rage, made his eyes all wide and round and liquid like a startled deer since Jared slammed him against the board and bit his way into that red mouth, made room for himself in that hot, wet space with his tongue and teeth, shoving Mr Ackles' tongue out of the way, bending it almost in half, knocking it right off its throne in the middle of that scorching heat. He'd licked at Mr Ackle's teeth - the grooves of them dragging on Jared's tongue, god, what a feeling to sink into that mouth like an invasion, to shove his tongue right inside that heat, that wet, and claim his place there, his right to rule. Mr Ackle's wide, angry, confused eyes had stared at him, almost magnified by his glasses, his hot, sweet breath weaving its way into Jared's own mouth, and Mr Ackle's tongue had pretended all the while to fight back and form words that didn't matter when Jared know it wanted to stroke back, wanted to curl and roll and wriggle around Jared's.

When Jared had pulled back from the kiss with a loud smacking sound, Mr Ackles clobbered him on the side of the head - almost clobbered him. Jared is quick - all muscles and hormones and reflexes polished lightning-quick - so he managed to catch that stray fist in his palm, managed to crush it as his hand furled up into a fist itself to grind the bones in Mr Ackle's hands together till the teacher cried out in pain. Jared mercifully let it out of the vice of his fist, and Mr Ackles snatched it right back, cradled it to his chest, sending Jared a look so toxic it looked positively filthy, his lower lip morphing a little to jut out into an angry pout.

Jared slapped the pout right off that face with a hard, open palm, sent Mr Ackle's head cracking to the side like his skull would start spinning on his neck.

"Listen here, _Mr Ackles_. Do everything I say, and I'll treat you good. Hit me again - you can try, but you'll never land a blow - and I will destroy you. I will rip right through you with my cock, I swear. Or, wait, maybe you'd like that a little too much, maybe I should just run to the office with these swollen lips, cry rape, say my Biology teacher took my lips by force, almost took me by force - want to bet that they'll believe me, that they'll take _my_ word for it over yours, Mr Ackles? You're just the new guy, just two weeks into this job. You're nothing, just a piece of trash sullying the golden boy - the star player on the school football team. Wanna get fired because you took advantage of your male student? No school will ever hire you, I'll make sure of that, I'll make your life hell, break you down until you come running after me, begging for my cock. So, be a good boy and kiss me when I tell you to kiss me, suck my cock when I ask you to, and hold your cheeks apart, pretty please, so I can put my cock in you."

When Jared had tugged his zipper down and pulled the flaps of his trousers open, lifted his cock out from where it'd been smothering in his trousers, guides it out into the cool air in one palm, and shoved Mr Ackles to his knees, the stammering is a little endearing.

"Wh-whu-what are you doing? I don't- I don't understand, what's- is- I brought you my favourite textbook, and- and post-it notes, and a highlighter - It's green, and I-" he's already tending towards gibberish, just moving that hot, wet mouth of his with every word because, fuck, he has to know how crazy that gets Jared, how it makes him want to press down on that fat lower lip with his thumb, or pry the sides wide open.

But Mr Ackles is just begging for _that_ , so Jared chooses to curl his fingers around his own fat cock, already drizzling pre-come to grease its way like a perfect gentleman, already standing at the ready. He drags his fist up and down it lazily for a while, just leans back lazily against the board and lets Mr Ackles gaze up at him, eyelashes fluttering wildly against his glasses, leaving little streaks, mouth dropping open, gaping, slutty and unashamed.

He spends some time working his hand around the head of his cock, dipping his thumb into the slit and rubbing the sides of the head down with pre-come. Then he lets go, sets his cock free from the tight little circle of his fist - a poor substitute for what Mr Ackles has to offer, and his cock springs right back up, thumps hard against his tummy, against his crips, white school shirt and bounces, leaves a sticky, wet smear that makes Mr Ackles lick his lips unconsciously. His eyelids slam shut over his eyes and he ducks his head down quickly.

"What a sweet little cockslut you are, Mr Ackles. Sure you a real teacher? Throwing on a tie and buying a couple of textbooks doesn't make you one. Principal Morgan blew the school budget on you, didn't he? Bought the school something pretty. Look at that mouth on you - wasted in a school, really, just wasted. Is it good for anything other than taking cock? Nobody actually pays you any attention in class, Mr Ackles, how can we when you keep flapping those lips at us. Everybody just wants to see it stuffed with dick - fat cock to go along with those fat whore lips, we just want to see it beading come. Just look at this greedy mouth, this lower lip," Jared says, and tilts Mr Ackles head back with one hand at the back of his head. He grips his cock firmly enough in the other so he can slap it repeatedly on that lower lip, slap the head of it hard against that pillow-soft mouth, watch the head land in the curve of it, the center of that lip dimple a little under the weight, the heaviness of the swollen head of his cock.

Some of his pre-come flies up with each jerk of his cock up and down, messy, specks of them choosing to land just so, to dot that little dip above Mr Ackles' top lip which just begs to be fed droplets of come.

Mr Ackles' hand comes up to wipe it away, but once he has, he doesn't know what to do with it, the side of his palm glistening a little with Jared's come, strings of sticky seed clinging and stretching in webs between his thumb and forefinger when he spreads them, so he settles for wringing his hands a little worriedly, getting both hands messy almost mindlessly. "Why are you doing this? I don't - I'm not-"

He really talks way too much. How very like a teacher of him, to love the sound of his own voice, to impose it on his 16-year-old student when all that student really wants is some relief - any relief, from any part of his teacher's body: mouth, tongue, teeth, ass, god, he'd even fuck those nipples, let the hard peaks of them rub against the slit of his cock, he'd even be happy to rut his cock in the dip of Mr Ackle's collarbones, another sweet little dip in his body that a cock could lie on, like a lazy king who deserves worship.

Jared shuts him up by slapping Mr Ackles in the face with his cock - slaps all over that pretty face, with its freckles begging to be connected dot-to-dot by streams of come, what a pretty constellation that'd make, pulls his cock back and lets it land on those reddening cheeks that get hotter and hotter with every blow, drags the tip of his cock up and down the bridge of that nose. The sounds are maddening - Mr Ackles soft gasps, intakes of breath that sound like his lungs might collapse on him any time soon, that sharp, meaty sound of flesh on flesh every time his cock makes contact, slap, slap, slap. Mr Ackles eyes flutter shut with each blow, and each time they struggle to open, they look so dazed, pupils blown wide, that Jared really just wants to tug those glasses off and let Mr Ackles stare his cock right in the eye, stare at the slit of it leaking wet, poke him in the eye with the head of it and let his come glue those eyelids shut.

He slaps Mr Ackles in the glasses so hard his cock almost knocks them off Mr Ackle's nose. They survive the attack a little askew, a little tilted, lens streaky with pre-come.

"Because I can, and because I wanted to, and, Mr Ackles, because I had the chance to get you alone with me, just two of us, how awesome is that. Just you and me every Wednesday and Friday, and this freaking awesome lab. Look at these counters, Mr Ackles, god, how many ways I could spread you out on them, and just look at all the things we have to play with - fuck, the first time I saw you, the first time you called my name in class, I just wanted to fuck your mouth wide open with a test tube or two, fill you right up and peer right into you. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Or is that not enough - do you want cock, want this thick piece of meat in you, want my seed and pulse rushing through you, want me to rub you down from the inside with it, dirty you up, Mr Ackles?"

Mr Ackles' throat wobbles a little as he swallows - the long, pale line of it, that column that's begging to be filled up with spunk, that's gonna carry floods of seed from Jared's cock down into Mr Ackles' belly. When he looks up at Jared it's a little comical, because he sort of has to squint through come-smeared glasses to focus on Jared's face. His eyelashes are working tirelessly, so long they scrape up and down against the lenses, like if they flutter hard enough they'll clear a little circle for him to peer out through.

"No, I don't want it," Mar Ackles says bravely, ridiculously, because he's still on his knees, breathing hot and wet on Jared's shaft, still dripping pre-come all over his face, his nose, his mouth. "Come on, Jared… Mr Padalecki, let's put that away. I know with the training and tests, you're sure to be a little stressed out, but I mean, you're a nice boy - everyone tells me so, and I'm sure you don't want to do this, please, let's just, let's start over again - let's… clothe ourselves as is appropriate for a classroom situation, and I'll help you with your schoolwork. We'll pull those Biology grades up, you'll have nothing to worry about. Your coach will take you right back in, and you won't have to disappoint anyone - nor your parents, or your teammates, or your friends. It's going to be okay, if you'd just let me help you-"

"You could start helping me by sucking, my, cock," Jared tells him, a little irreverant, rocking forward on his feet with each word to bump his cock against Mr Ackles' cheek.

God, Mr Ackles is blushing so hard, face so red, glowing hot like ember. Digging his cock into Mr Ackles from the outside feels glorious - silken, with just a little edge of roughness from stubble struggling to colour in the sides of his face, the sweetest of barriers between cool air and the molten heat of Mr Ackles' body, where his cock wants to nestle in, lolling lazy in the heat.

Jared would bet anything it'd feel even better to poke his cock against that cheek from the inside, to guide his cock into that mouth, that hot little hole where Mr Ackles' breath and words build and congregate, that wet space with the coy little tongue that needs to be fed spit and spunk before it loses its inhibitions and plays right into the clasp of Jared's own, to see that cheek bulge fat and heavy, full and swollen with the head of Jared's cock.

Mr Ackles physically recoils - that's the only word for it, and even then it's not the right word, doesn't capture how fully, how vehemently he reacts. He draws back quick as a flexing whip, almost gags with how hard he's protesting, how violently he's letting out little stutters of no, I don't think-, let's not, I've never, I can't. He lets a shudder run right through his body, lets his fingers clench into fists and release like the sheer thought of sucking on Jared's cock disgusts him so much it makes his fingers curl, like Jared's cock makes him shrivel up in nausea from the inside - Jared's fucking awesome cock, a fucking monster that deserves to be ridden like a champion, so fat all around, like it's been feeding, greedy, from as many girls as it could possibly cram itself into, so heavy and thick, so fucking perfectly shaped, with a dangerous little curve to it like a bit of bad boy swagger built right into his fucking cock, daring someone, anyone, to ride it, to take it right into their body and find pleasure in it, come on, I know it scares you, baby, but you know it'll be good.

And yet here's Mr Ackles staring warily at it from a safe distance away - still balanced on his knees like he was built to be put on them, to sink onto them and spend days on perched on them - staring at Jared's cock like it's not the best thing that's ever happened to him, like Jared hasn't very kindly given him the permission to put those cocksucking lips to good use for once.

Jared pounces, jumps forward and lets his full weight land on Mr Ackles, lets the teacher make a high, pained noise in his throat, bowls the man over so he's flat on his back, looking up with wide-eyes like Jared's muscles were supposed to be just for show, his wrists manacled by the circle of Jared's thumb and foreginer. He sits unforgivingly on Mr Ackles' chest, thumps down heavily on him until the man groans a little and thrashes, and leans over, lets his nose brush up against Mr Ackles' cheek, scenting it, feeling the sticky residue of his seed where it's soaked into him.

"Gonna put it in your mouth, Mr Ackles? Or should I do it? You want me to do it for you? Feed you cock? Cus, it's gonna get inside you anyway, I'll make sure you don't leave till I get this baby inside you at least once today. And I'm not picky, Mr Ackles. I could let you take it into your mouth slowly, let you get used to it, wean you slowly and let you suckle on it, seeing as how it's our first date and all. Or I could just ram it right down, just sit on your pretty little face and cram this monster in, fuck your face so hard I'll break your mouth right open, rip it wide open, fuck you a nice big smile, get that mouth loose and jagged for me. I'll push it right down your throat, slide down that gorgeous column of it, and fuck you breathless, let you choke to death on it, Mr Ackles. They'll cut you right open and find you full of my seed, how about that - I'll just tell them you wouldn't let go, that my slut of a teacher begged me for it, commanded it, told me I had to fuck his mouth hard and deep, fuck him till he gagged and choked and teared and got snot and come all over and inside him, he wanted to suck on a cock so bad, or else."

Mr Ackles swallows, throat convulsing, and Jared just presses his cock against it, lets the ripple, the feel of that bobbing adam's apple push against the under side of his cock. Jared mercifully gets up off Mr Ackles' chest and scoots forward, knees his way upward so he can press his cock down against those lips, drag the head of it along place where Mr Ackles' chin becomes that sinful lower lip, a pocket of skin fed heavy with blood, soft as a pillow. He lets his cock trace the outline of that lower lip, butt against it and dribble on it like a baby begging to be loved. When presses his cock between those two lips, forces a little opening to slide just the head of his cock through, Mr Ackles has his teeth clenched tight.

"Gotta open wide for me, Mr Ackles. Gotta spread those lips wide if you want to get this mancock inside you. It's gonna spear you open, cleave those lips open," Jared tells him and runs his cock against those teeth, clenched so stubbornly, rubs his come into the teeth and gums like the sloppiest, filthiest toothbrush. "Say _aaah_ , Mr Ackles, or I'll make your life hell, I swear it. Think about it, Mr Ackles. Risking your job, your reptutation, your life, when you could have just licked my dick when I gave you the easy way out. How about it? You gonna be a good boy for me, gonna suck me down?"

Mr Ackles parts his teeth so, so, slowly it could well have taken hours to see the hot inside of that mouth, to feel the breath feather out against the head of his cock, feel it almost steam up against it. Jared watches him all the while, intent, watches the look in his eyes - despair, shame - watches the way he blinks and blinks and blinks like he wants to disperse the tears that have started gathering in them, that clamour to spill out over his lashes, roll onto his cheeks. It's the fucking prettiest thing he's ever seen, god. His cock jerks a little between those lips, the head of it bobbing.

From where he's kneeling over Mr Ackles' face, he's got a look at the inside of that pornstar mouth. It's dark, rimmed with white teeth topped with grooves he wants to scrape lightly, lightly, over his cock, and there's that pretty pink tongue sitting there moving a little restlessly. Jared can see spit pooling in that mouth, wants to push his cock in and dip it in all that spit, mix it up with come and send it back down Mr Ackle's throat, send his seed speeding all around Mr Ackles' body, fuck. Wants him to walk into class one day, speak to class with the taste of his student's come in his mouth.

Jared slides his cock inside, and Mr Ackle's tongue bumps up against the underside of it reflexively, a little startled at the head, or the taste, it doesn't matter. It feels so fat and lush under his cock, and it'd be so easy to slide deeper in, to let the head of his cock bump against the back of Mr Ackles' mouth, to burrow its way down his throat.

Jared rocks his hips in and out, lets Mr Ackles lips catch at the head of his cock with every thrust, lets the spit coat his cock, the warm breath melt over it like butter. For someone with such a beautiful mouth, Mr Ackles sure doesn't know how to use it. His lips are useless - soft, so, so soft, but still, and his tongue is lying limp in his mouth, and he's not using the hot insides of his cheek to milk Jared's cock.

Jared claws his fingers through Mr Ackles' short hair, clings so hard he pinches the scalp and Mr Ackles groans in pain, sends a sharp, hot exhalation against Jared's cock. His teeth close a little, scrape a little, so Jared tugs Mr Ackles' head off his cock, to the side, hard, so his head is bent awkwardly, like his neck could be broken for all Jared cares.

"Don't hold out on me now, Mr Ackles. Pretty mouth like that, you gotta make it good for me."

"I've never - It's my first -" Mr Ackles is saying, and those tears have finally started to spill. How sweet is that, wow.

"Hey, hey," Jared says, coaxingly, soothingly, strokes idly at Mr Ackles' cheek with one hand, lets his thumb get wet with tears. "Don't cry, it's okay, don't be scared. I'll make it all better, how about it? Teach you how to suck me right, be your first cock for you. Sounds good, huh? Come on, up on your knees, Mr Ackles. There, that's right, good boy."

He lets his hands cup the back of Mr Ackles head and swivels his hips, lets his cock bob its way around Mr Ackles' face, land wherever it likes, suck up the salt from all the tears, make it taste so good, before finally pushing it with his hips against Mr Ackles' lips. He lets his thumbs stroke against Mr Ackle's nape softly.

"Part those lips for me, Mr Ackles - yes, yesss, just like that, let me in just like that, let this cock in. No, not that wide, just enough to let it slide through, now seal it shut, purse those cocksucking lips… Just right. Yes, just like that. Now don't let those teeth scrape me up too bad, Mr Ackles - oh, that's good, yeaaaah, let that tongue play my cock good, come on, yeah, rub it right there. Now, you can do whatever you'd like with it - wanna make me feel good, right? You can suck me good, rub me with tongue and lips and - yeah, let the insides of your mouth stroke me… Like that, fuck. Fuck, yesssss, doing so well, Mr Ackles. Maybe one day, I'll teach you how to take me down your throat, teach you how to swallow around me and milk all the come out of me. Yes, Mr Ackles, I wanna put my cock right back there where your tongue ends and leads down to your throat - Hey, _hey_ , it's okay, you're not ready for it, don't need to suck it down that deep yet, we got time, we got lots of time for you to learn what I like. Now, come on, let's see what you got, come on."

Mr Ackles might be a pretty crappy teacher, but, damn, he's not a bad student. He's a bit more of a tease than Jared would like, yeah, like he wants an excuse to keep that cock out of his mouth as much as possible - keeps drawing it out so he can plant small kisses along the shaft, poke the tip of his tongue through the slit at the head. He lets Jared's cock dip into his mouth shallowly, teases it with the heat it offers, the slick, but he really likes to keep most of it outside his mouth, keeps looking up at Jared with those green eyes framed by sooty lashes, so long, curled, like a girl's.

It's smothering how Mr Ackles only lets Jared feed him so little of his dick, when he's got so much left, when he's got inches and inches more begging for the same hot, wet treatment - and, well, Jared's a nice guy, but even nice guys have needs, even nice guys wanna cram their cock some place molten hot, wants to come their balls out, fuck their brains out. So Jared takes control, grips Mr Ackles' face tight between his palms, and thrusts his cock so far in Mr Ackles actually gags. Fuck, that felt awesome, that violently clenching throat spasming around the tip of his cock. Fresh tears make their way down Mr Ackles' cheeks, and when Jared tugs his cock out, globules of spit are bubbling from Mr Ackles' mouth, thick. He looks so miserable, so pretty, Jared apologises, soothes him and tells him, sorry, I won't go that deep again, not today, I'll try, don't worry, sorry.

Mr Ackles really picks up fast, gets used to how Jared sticks s much of his dick in, Mr Ackles gets mouthfuls of hair around with it, gets hair between his teeth, gets hair tickling his tongue and making his tongue flex wildy at the feel of it, uncomfortable. He learns how to accomodate Jared's dick - it's a fickle thing, sometimes it wants heat all over the length of it, sometimes just the tip, sometimes it angles just so it can rub the inside of Mr Ackles' right cheek, sometimes it wants to feel that swollen, pink tongue instead, and Mr Ackles just takes it and takes it and takes it, sucks and kisses and licks and rolls his tongue and scrapes with his teeth just right, lets Jared see how his lips are stretched like crazy over Jared's cock. God, he's such a cock-guzzling monster, he's gonna be _perfect_.

Jared's hips start stuttering a little wildly, their movements harder to rein in and Mr Ackles' eyes go wide as Jared's ball start slapping harder and harder against his chin, as Jared chases more and more spit out of that mouth with his cock, emptying out a space for his come. His hands go up, scrabbling, to clutch at Jared's hips, trying to pull them back, to slow them down, and god, those _eyes_ , pleading, begging for Jared to give him a chance to gulp down some air instead of cock.

Jared just holds his face tighter between his palms, and pulls forward, right onto his cock, chokes him with hair and cock, smothers Mr Ackles in his pubic hair, and comes, hips jerking wildly, with no place to go but in, in, in. Empties all his seed out, dumps load after heavy load into that mouth, lets his sperm spill out onto that tongue and those teeth, paint the inside of those cheeks.

When he pulls his cock out, it's glistening with spit, and it hangs between his thighs, drooping lazy and content, pleased as hell. Mr Ackles is coughing up globs of his sperm mixed in with spit. What a mess he is - tears everywhere, snot dripping from his nose, and come dribbling past his lips, staining his chin, smearing all over. He's got a whole puddle of Jared's come cupped in his trembling palm from where he's coughed it up, and Jared guides that hand down, wipes it clean all over Mr Ackles' crisply-ironed shirt.

"Gotta say that was a good effort, Mr Ackles, but we gotta try harder, don't we?" Jared asks, tucking himself back into his pants and zipping them up. He runs his hand through his hair, straightens his collar and the sleeves of his shirt and looks down at Mr Ackles, the curve of his back, his slumped shoulders, his upturned palm with remants of come.

The teacher is looking down at his own knees, making little sniffling sounds that rattle through the room. Jared runs his palms down his pants, check that they're sitting right on his hips, looks down at his shoes to make sure he hasn't gotten come on them or something, gross. All clean.

He lays a palm on Mr Ackles head and ruffles his hair, turns away to walk out of the room.

"See you Friday. Don't be late, all right?"


End file.
